Spider Cooties
by The Forgotten Nobody
Summary: "And if you put a layer of vibranium here then – SWEET HAMMER OF THOR!" "…Peter, why are you on the ceiling?" It turns out that Peter doesn't like spiders.


_I saw a gif of Tom flinching from a spider and this happened. There are no Homecoming Spoilers._

* * *

"And if you put a layer of vibranium here then – SWEET HAMMER OF THOR!"

"…Peter, why are you on the ceiling?"

Peter clung on for dear life. "Could you…could you get rid of it please."

Tony slowly looked around him. "Get rid of what?"

"…The spider."

Peter didn't think he'd seen Mr. Stark laugh before but there was no denying that was what was happening now. His hand was even clutching his stomach, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Peter would most certainly be offended if it weren't for the fact that _the tiny eight legged demon was still right there preparing to climb on their newest invention and wait a minute it has, oh man now it's contaminated with spider cooties this is the_ _ **worst thing ever**_.

"Mr. Stark…" It was just sitting there, right upon his half-finished web shooters, _taunting_ Peter with its creepy eight eyes.

"H-hold on a minute kid," Mr. Stark said, little bursts of laughter still escaping him. "You mean to tell me that you, _Spider-Man_ , are afraid of spiders? F.R.I.D.A.Y please tell me you're recording this, it's _beautiful_."

"Hey Tony, I just wanted to remind you that-why are you up there kid?"

"You'll never guess, Happy," Mr. Stark replied gleefully. "Our Spider-man here has arachnophobia."

Happy, God bless his kind, sweet, soul, just rolled his eyes. "Where's the spider Peter."

"On top of the web shooters."

Casting an exasperated look in Mr. Stark's direction, Happy took a step towards the tiny spawn of Satan and was just about to cup it with his hands when both the arachnid's and Peter's spider-sense 'pinged' at the same time. It scuttled away quickly like a crook evading the cops and _yeah, no, Peter was not remaining in this room a second longer._

"I'm out of here!" Peter yelled, crawling across the ceiling but as he reached the doorframe his fingers slipped and okay maybe he should have accepted Mr. Stark's offer of new trainers because his old ones were slipping off the smooth surface before Peter could catch himself and –

 ** _CRASH_**

On the bright side, he missed all the expensive, dangerous machinery.

On the down side, he might have killed Iron Man.

"Hey kid, not that I'm not taking this as karma but, do you mind getting off me?" Mr. Stark wheezed.

"Of course Mr. Stark. Sorry Mr. Stark!" After accidently elbowing Mr. Stark in the sternum, Peter jumped off his stomach. He could feel his face flaming and as much as he still wanted to bolt the heck out of there, embarrassment kept him in place and helping Mr. Stark up.

"Delete that footage F.R.I.D.A.Y," Mr. Stark ordered, rubbing his chest. He then froze and the hair on the back of Peter's neck stood. In that moment it was like time stood still; the only thing Peter noticed was how quickly his heart was pounding in his chest.

"I don't want to-"

"Please don't say anything Happy," Peter whispered. His eyes were locked onto Mr. Stark's face, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Everything's fine," he carried on. "Just dandy. In fact, I'm just going to walk right out of here. Yep. That's what I'm going to do." Mr. Stark winced at the high pitch Peter's voice had gradually increased to.

"Kid, I think you should-"

"Mr. Stark, I really don't want to break anything right now so I'm just-I'm just gonna step outside…just go outside and…"

Peter trailed off with a quiet _eep_ as slowly, It Which Must Not Be Named, crawled up the side of Peter's face. Peter took 1 deep breath, then another.

And then.

"GET IT OFF ME!"

* * *

Afterwards, Peter could be found sitting on the sofa, ice packs covering a self-inflicted black eye and his left knee which had a spectacular bruise of its own after Peter accidently bashed it into a work bench.

On the plus side, the spider was gone. (Not dead though because it just so happened that Peter's no killing rule extended to the tiny monsters, as much as it pained him.)

"So, spiders huh?" Mr. Stark asked wearily, nursing a tumbler of scotch.

Peter folded his arms petulantly. "How would you feel about them after being stuck in a room with loads of them, have one of them bite you and then wake up with really weird, freaky superpowers?! I mean, there were tons of 'em! All with their little beady eyes looking at me! It was not cool Mr. Stark. _Not cool_."

Mr. Stark opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it again. "You know what. We've all got our own demons." He closed his eyes, pushing the recliner so it was more horizontal.

Relieved that Mr. Stark wasn't going to make a big deal out of it and try to send Peter to therapy (he heard what they did there for arachnophobia and _it was not happening_ ), Peter relaxed back into the sofa. He was ready to leave the subject alone, nurse his wounds in peace, when a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Uh, one last thing Mr. Stark?" Peter said and Mr. Stark opened his eyes a fraction.

"Yeah kid?"

"…Could someone clean my web shooters?"

Mr. Stark stared at him a moment longer before he sighed.

"I'll have Happy do it in the morning."

While Peter was pretty sure Happy might come for him in the middle of the night like some sort of secret ninja for that, he found as long as the job got done, it'd be worth it.

Spider cooties were No Joke.

* * *

 _Let me know what you thought! If you want to, also check out my hurt/comfort fic With A Little Help._


End file.
